


The Matter of Bees

by RoryKurago



Category: Chronicles of Prydain - Lloyd Alexander
Genre: Complete, Gen, Tree Climbing, Tumblr Prompt, post Taran Wanderer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 07:45:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5155844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoryKurago/pseuds/RoryKurago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was tagged for a 5-minute drabble on tumblr; this is the bulked-up version of that.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Matter of Bees

**Author's Note:**

> I was tagged for a 5-minute drabble on tumblr; this is the bulked-up version of that.

An apple dropped down on Taran as he crossed the orchard to Hen Wen’s hut. In all the excitement of arriving back from his journey to Lunet he hadn't had a chance to properly say hello to her and now he was being pelted with agriculture. Rubbing the back of his head, he frowned up into the tree expecting to see Gurgi picking the early crop from the branch.

A linen-clad leg followed the apple down. Eilonwy giggled at him from a low branch. In her hand was another apple larger than the missile, missing a bite.

Taran squinted up at her. “I see it didn’t take you long to get rid of your skirts.”

“It’s quite impossible to climb in all those petticoats,” she observed, rearranging the hem of her long tunic over her leggings. “And this is much cooler.”

"Imagine what Queen Teleria would say if she could see you like that: up an apple tree, in breeches, with your hair a mess."

Eilonwy shuddered. "Ooh, the shrieking. They'd hear it all the way back on Mona, I imagine." She draped an arm over a convenient branch at her elbow and took a bite of the apple. Chewing it meditatively, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back to the filtered sunlight with a sigh. "Oh, it's so much nicer here than at that dratted castle."

Taran - recalling the misadventures of Mona - agreed, shading his eyes against the sun through the upper branches as he looked up at her. “Are you going to come down?”

“You come up!” A hand descended from the branches to grab his sleeve.

With only minor difficulty, Taran found the way she’d taken to get up and arranged himself in the fork of a branch opposite her. Eilonwy graciously offered him an early apple from a branch overhanging the avenue. It was tart and still a little too hard. He traced a lighter patch on the skin with a blunt finger nail before letting it drop to the ground.

Eilonwy didn't scold him for finding fault with her gift. She  _must_ be relaxed. Taran stretched his legs out and let himself go limp in the cradle of the branches as well. Eilonwy reclined with her head pillowed by an upright spur of the branch she lounged on, one leg dangling off it while the other crooked up, one bare foot tucked under the other knee. Her breathing was slow and even. Taran considered warning her that if she fell asleep up here she was likely to get an almighty bump on the head when she slid off her branch.

"Taran of Caer Dalben, must you think so loudly?"

Caught off guard, Taran blushed and smiled awkwardly but Eilonwy didn't open her eyes so he didn't reply. A breeze stirred the leaves around them. From the far side of the orchard came quiet strains of conversation between Coll and Gurgi over which herbs to gather for the evening meal.

A bee buzzed past Taran's ear, lazily chasing the last of the apple blossoms over Taran’s head. He restrained himself from waving it away.

Another looped around Eilonwy’s head, hovering beside her golden headband. At last she opened her eyes.

“Aren’t you worried you’ll be stung?” Taran asked as she tracked its passage without moving.

“Not really. They’re ever such sweet little creatures, if you don’t bother them.” She tilted her head very slowly towards the bee so she could watch it wobble over an apple blossom. Satiated, the bee took flight, drunk on sweet nectar and afternoon warmth.

“I suppose princesses aren’t afraid of bees,” Taran teased, with only a little sting in his words.

Eilonwy smiled at him, that honey-sharp smile he’d missed on his long journey to the Mirror of Lunet. “No more than Assistant Pig Keepers are."


End file.
